Yuletide
by Raven's Wing
Summary: Rapunzel did not know what a Yuletide meant, or was, or whatever, but she had the feeling everyone expected her to know. The word hovered in the air and taunted her. Always spoken around her and not to her, it felt isolating and cold. It felt bigger than other words, more important, and Rapunzel decided she did not like this Yuletide even one bit.


******Disclaimer**: I own nothing related to any Disney universe including, but not limited to, characters, names of places, lyrics, dialogue, or any other piece of product. Disney retains all the rights to their universes. I am making no money or receiving any kind of compensation, material or non-material, for this fiction. It's all for fun. Please don't sue me. I do claim the writing, the idea behind this particular narrative, and any peripheral characters or locations created to augment Disney's work.

**A/N**: Tis the season for much fluff. Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la. No dark stories like "Enough". Fa, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la.

It is never too late for a holiday fic, right? Bah.

Also, this is the longest one-shot ever written in the history of the world. So enjoy it.

* * *

Yuletide.

The way people talked about it, all smirks and winks, made Rapunzel's stomach twitch. Their eyes lit with swirling secrets, and the skin at the corners of their mouths pulled into knowing points. The tones they used reminded her of the sing song voice Gothel used when she tried to convince Rapunzel that she liked something when she really she didn't like it at all. Things like Hazelnut soup. Things like being in that tower, only that tower, forever.

Gothel taught her not to question her when her face pinched into a tight mask where reason didn't matter. Her word was law and Rapunzel knew the sting of her slap for too many questions. So where she normally barreled forward with endless inquisition, starving to know everything she could about a new subject, she was silent. Their secret-keeping faces made her hold back.

She didn't think anyone in the palace would raise a hand against her the way Gothel had. You weren't allowed to hit princesses, or so she was told, but you weren't allowed to steal princesses either. Gothel did both. People didn't always do what they were supposed to. So she never asked. She never prodded. She just waited for it to pass

The first time she noticed the look was at the Spring Jubilee. It was the first regular royal holiday where she served as Corona's princess since her return. The entire city was bedecked with blossoms. Ivy and garlands of green hung from windows, over streets, on lamp posts, and in store fronts. People dressed in frothy colors, creamy peaches and baby blues, to usher in the warmer days and brighter skies. The palace was an explosion of bouquets with centerpieces as tall as she was, and Rapunzel thought it was the most remarkable thing she'd ever seen after the lanterns.

There was a huge parade where people threw sweet smelling petals in the air. She got to ride in a carriage that looked like a garden with her parents and Eugene through the streets. People danced and sang and there was music around every corner. It was bright and joyful and she felt vibrant. She felt alive! Not just the run-of-the-mill, breathing in and out alive. This was tingling skin, thrumming pulse, senses on fire _alive. _Moments like these made her forget that there ever was a tower. How could she have ever been a prisoner when she felt this free?

They went back to the palace after the parade. There was a reception held in the garden for the nobles which she found as nerve wracking as Eugene found it boring. There were so many things to remember: names, titles, customs, which people you bowed to and which people bowed to you, who could kiss your hand, and what to say when someone asked a question. She'd practiced for weeks with her etiquette teacher, but she worried she'd forget something. She worried that she would somehow blunder up everything and her parents would be so horrified they'd stop loving her. Maybe they would decide that they had done just fine without a princess so far, and she was too desperately behind to be any good.

The only thing that got her through the crushing jitters was Eugene and his impersonations of the nobles when they weren't looking.

Once the most of the princess-ly duties were done, she plucked flowers out of vases and wove them into her crown the way the flowers had been woven onto the carriage and begged to do the same to her parents'. The declined with a smile, but Eugene let her make him a crown _entirely_ of flowers. He wore it the rest of the day, even when Max whinnied taunts at him.

During an interlude of the receptions official events, Rapunzel sat on the sprawling grass lawn and wove Pascal a complex tapestry of tulip leaves and daisies to wear like a cape. Eugene lay next to her on his back, hands behind his head, and his eyes closed. The lizard in question rested on Eugene's stomach as it rose and fell with his steady breath. It looked like they were both sleeping.

It was calm and happy. She hummed under her breath and hoped that the wonderful feeling from the day would never fade. That is when she heard it for the first time.

"Just wait until the princess sees _Yuletide._" It is one of the noble women walking by with her companion.

Rapunzel had thought she seemed nice upon first meeting, but now as she turned to look at her, her heart stopped. Their eyes caught a moment. That smirking knowledge Rapunzel knew too well clung to the corner of the lady's mouth and shot like an ice dagger down her spine. And with that one look she is back in her tower as the walls closed in around her and she couldn't breathe. The noble woman's eyes snapped to swirling gray, a tempest brewing for Rapunzel's insubordination, but then the woman passed, her gaze flicked past Rapunzel to other sights, and she was gone.

But still there was no air.

The memory of that look sent a trigger of reactions through her that eighteen years of conditioning built. Her mind screamed: _YOU ARE IN TROUBLE! GET OUT OF HERE! HIDE! NOTHING IS FINE!_

She wanted to wake Eugene. She wanted him to hold her and tell her everything was fine, but she couldn't. It would be awful to try to explain that she woke him because absolutely nothing happened, but she freaked out anyway. Plus this was her first real day doing princess things. She didn't want to spoil it with a scene. She needed to prove to these people that she worthy of being their princess, and hyperventilating and breaking into sobs over a word and a look seemed like the wrong way to do that. So she pushed all thoughts of anxiety out of her mind and focused her energy on finishing Pascal's cape. She pushed so hard that all bad thoughts faded into distant memory. It made her feel calm, proud, and in control.

That was until the next time.

It was the Sun Carnival. Corona was alive with red, yellow, and orange streamers and banners. The gold sun of Corona's flag swirled on every corner, wall, and window. Her dress had the emblem embroidered into the bodice, as did her mother. The king and Eugene wore distinguished looking sashes in similar styles to the decoration of the lady's garments. Everyone she saw had some sort of sun represented on them. It made Rapunzel feel connected, like they were all in on some glorious mission of splendor.

At the Carnival there were fire eaters and jugglers and men walking on stilts. The performers came and showed their skills for the Royal family as they sat on the riser made for the occasion. The oddities and impossibilities had Rapunzel alternately squealing and gasping. Never before had she seen such displays and was enamored with the novelty.

One man came up to them who was a slight of hand magician. Eugene was unimpressed. He muttered something about cheap tricks and how he could teach Rapunzel how to do exactly what the man was doing, only better, but she didn't care. She loved watching the coin appear and disappear from the magician's hand, her ear, and Pascal's tail.

Her father, a quiet man by nature, leant over to her mother as he watched his daughter's rapture and said: "I cannot wait to see her at Yuletide."

Rapunzel's eyes tore from the slight-of-hand the magician executed to look at her parents the second she heard that. They were smiling, so happy, but there at the corner of their lips was that secret she couldn't reach. Their smiles beamed as they looked at her and she tried to return their gesture, but found it difficult with the discomfort growing in her stomach. Why were her parents looking at her like _that_ and what did Yuletide had to do with any of this? It made her insides all rumbly.

Unlike the first time, she couldn't push the words her father said or the look her parents gave her out of her mind.

She kept quiet. Even though she did not know what Yuletide meant, or was, or whatever – she had the feeling everyone expected her to know. She had a feeling that her not knowing would be worse than all the other things she didn't know because everyone _thought_ she knew what The Yuletide was, but she didn't. In every other facet of daily life, people always assumed the opposite. They assumed that since she had lived in the woods in a tower for eighteen years she didn't know how to bathe, or speak, or eat at a table. While there were several things she'd learned after coming to the palace, and several more things she had yet to learn, she'd never felt like she was expected to know something to an irritating level. Never, that was, until now.

She sunk into herself. Her looping thoughts made it difficult to focus on anything happening around her. Each stubborn circle her mind took around the problem made it that much more dismal. She felt vulnerable and nervous, and she wanted this to be over so she could go back to her room and hide till these feelings passed.

Eugene noticed the change in her demeanor. At first he tried to make some jokes to cheer her up because that was easier than talking about feelings, but it didn't work. Next he had Max come over and say hello, which normally made her chipper, but not today. Last, he leaned over in his plain chair to her throne and whispered:

"Everything all right?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice, and he didn't push it. He knew not to. He knew more than the others. He knew her darkness. He knew the tower and the cruelty of Gothel in a personal way the way the rest could never hope. For that reason he didn't ask again.

By the next morning, the whole incident seemed distant. The sun had gone down and come up and nothing tragic had happened. No Yuletide had jumped out of her closet and tried to eat her. She was safe, the sun was shining, and that was enough for Rapunzel to jump back to her normal self.

That was until the next time.

Autumn blanketed Corona in warm colors and cold nights. The kingdom celebrated the regional reaping with bonfires as big as houses. Women boiled sugar and milk to make caramel that caught in Rapunzel's teeth and made her fingers so tacky they stuck against Eugene's skin. Merchants lined the streets selling dolls made of corn husks and gourds so strangely shaped and splotched that Rapunzel wanted to buy all of them. Eugene dissuaded her impulse by encouraging her to share. He regretted that advice when it took her two hours to select just one. She picked a green, orange, and white specimen with bumps and nobs so twisted that it hardly looked like a gourd at all. She was convinced it was magical.

For three days the palace hosted Harvest Festival games, races, and displays of strength. Rapunzel's official duty was to award the prizes with a kiss. Men came from all corners of the kingdom to race horses, shoot arrows, and throw logs the size of tree trunks. Even some friends from The Snuggly Duckling came and participated, but Eugene did not. He said it was because it wouldn't be fair. He already got her kisses. Hook Hand said it was because he was bad at everything except stealing, running, and being a bum. Rapunzel was too blissfully happy to care.

By the last evening, Rapunzel was so exhausted from dancing and running and laughing and jumping and carrying around her gourd that Eugene gave her a piggyback ride to her room. Her cheek rubbed against the rough wool of his coat. Her skirts bunched up awkwardly around his hips where he pushed them back so he could grab below her knees. She draped her arms around his neck more than she held on and Eugene tried to move so he wouldn't jostle her too much. He didn't feel like dropping a princess today.

They both smelled of fire and fresh air. It clung to their hair and clothes. Rapunzel breathed it in. It was amazing. It was bright and warm and smelled like how she felt with Eugene this close and her muscles slack from exhaustion. It was so perfect.

He deposited her on her bed and pulled her boots and cloak before she flopped over onto the mattress. Eugene pulled the covers up under her chin, but made no moves to stay climb in alongside her. Some nights he would sneak into her room, or she to his, and they would curl into each other with warm, open mouth kisses. They'd tease and touch and talk late into the night until sleep swept them deep into its welcoming grasp. Then they'd sneak back to where they belonged before dawn shed light on their indiscretion. This happened often, but not tonight. Tonight too many people knew exactly where they were to be subtle. So instead of climbing under the covers with her and heating her body with his, he bent and pressed a chaste kiss to her temple.

Then he whispered against her ear: "G'night. Can't wait to see how tired you are after Yuletide."

"You can't?" She is exhausted but her body still pricks with apprehension at his words. His mouth lingered against her ear, the curve of his lips changed to a smirk she otherwise wouldn't mind, but found horrifying in the moment.

"Nope. I can't." And she could _hear_ the expression on his face so clearly it made her stomach hurt. "Now get some sleep or you won't stay awake during your lessons tomorrow."

One more kiss, this time on the shell of her ear, and he was gone. The warmth of his body and the warmth of the light from the hallway disappeared with the definite thud of her door. He left her with the darkness speckled by starlight and punctuated by the whirring breath of her sleeping chameleon, and she was scared.

Why did everyone insist on talking about this Yuletide in voices like snakes slithering up her spine? Nothing good or simple ever came from voices laced with secrets. She knew that. She knew how to tell the different between someone kind and someone who cared only for themselves now. It was something she learned in her life out of the tower, but now it confused her now that people she loved, people she trusted, were showing signs of the selfish duplicity she hated.

Why were these people she loved saying things with the terrible twinkle of expectation in their eyes? What did they want from her? Could she not trust them? Was everyone just a liar waiting to be discovered? Was that why she felt so different, because she didn't lie? Conflicting emotions writhed in her chest and made her heart beat fast and she tossed beneath the covers.

Her mind ran in circles around the ideas she didn't understand until it was just as tired as her body. Sleep slipped over her, but her thoughts weren't done with her yet.

She was back in her tower. It was cold and dark. She couldn't see anything. Piles and piles of what she knew was her dead brown hair snarled around her bare feet. She groped in the black to find a candle but found none of the familiar furniture or fixtures she remembered. She called for Eugene, Pascal, her parents, but no one answered. She dropped to her knees and crawled on the ground. Her hands searched through the piles of hair to find the hidden hatch that would let her out of this place, but she found nothing.

Then there was a chuckle behind her that stood her neck hair on end. She knew that taunting, throaty laugh. Rapunzel whirled to face the sound and found Gothel looming over her. The darkness still swallowed the room, but Gothel self-Illuminated. Rapunzel could see her every detail. The woman was ancient. The succulent youth she pulled from Rapunzel's hair was gone. Her skin was chalk. Her hair a wiry white cloud. The graceful hands were splotched and skeletal. She was all but unrecognizable except for the menacing glitter in her spiteful silver eyes.

"Trying to leave so soon, my dear? I thought you might. So I got rid of all the doors and windows. Now you and I can be together forever." The saturated contempt of her voice soaked into Rapunzel's bones and made her shake.

No! She wasn't supposed to be here anymore! This wasn't her life. This wasn't her home. There had to be a way out.

Rapunzel bolted up and past the cackling old woman to where there was supposed to be window dropping to the meadow, but all she found was stone and mortar. She clawed at the seams. Breath came in harsh pants as she tried to break out. Her fingernails chipped and tore, but she ignored the pain. All she could think about was getting out and getting away.

The air cut with the sharp rushing sound of a whip.

There was no time to react.

By the time her mind understood what it heard - the cruel tail wrapped around her wrist and yanked her back. She shouted and stumbled away from her task. Then another _whoosh snap! _Sliced the air and bound her other wrist. The binds cut into the tender flesh of her forearms as the restraints pulled her towards the withered waiting figure. Another bind shot out and twisted, clamping her arms to her sides and constricting her breath. Unable to struggle, she looked down at her restraints for the first time and felt a cold chill shoot through her body.

It was her hair.

The matted, tangled brown mess had risen like a serpent and struck out against her. The hair that had once been her greatest tool, her only ally, now turned against her. Rapunzel's treacherous hair ripped her closer to the skeletal woman. Her struggles intensified, but so did Mother Gothel's gleeful chortle. The locks squeezed her to cut off the shriek building in her throat.

"Let me go! I don't belong here!" Rapunzel gasped for breath.

"Don't belong here? My darling, you don't belong anywhere _but_ here." Gothel reached her bony fingers out and brushed them along Rapunzel's cheek. Rapunzel jerked away and Gothel's face twisted into a venomous smile.

"Tsk, tsk, my love, that is no way to behave." Gothel said in a voice that was too sweet.

Rapunzel spat at her. Twice. Three times. Until there was nothing left in her mouth, until she couldn't breathe, and then she spat one more time.

"You don't get to tell me what to do anymore. I don't belong to you!" Rapunzel gasped and narrowed her eyes at Gothel.

The woman's face fell into a deadly mask and the hair around Rapunzel tightened more so she couldn't draw a breath. Rapunzel's world spun in a lightheaded symphony, and she couldn't find enough air to fight.

"We could have gotten on just fine, but I am sorry to say that _now_ I can see that I have to teach you exactly what _Yuletide_ means."

Gothel reached into her cloak and pulled out a long, sharp shard of mirror. It was the same shard that Eugene had used to cut off all of her hair right before he died. The memory pulsed. It was laced with darkness and death and oh. Oh! She didn't want to know what Yuletide meant. She wanted to be out of this tower and away from his woman. She just wanted to find Eugene, find her real parents, and be safe at home in the palace again.

Then Gothel leaned in so close that Rapunzel could feel her hot breath filling her ear.

"Don't worry, my sweet. Mother knows best." She drew back and gave Rapunzel the secret keeping look that followed her into her waking. That look that told her she would never be enough.

Then Gothel lifted her bony hand and plunged the makeshift blade deep into Rapunzel's chest.

Rapunzel woke screaming. Her body thrashed and pulled to free itself from the mess of blankets that tangled around her limbs from moving in her sleep. The tightness of her corset, still left on from the day before, made it difficult to breathe. Her short brown hair was matted to her neck and temples with cold sweat. When she jerked her hand free from her covers, it lurched to the spot where Gothel pierced her body with the cruel instrument, but found no wound, no blood. She was fine. There was no pain, no puncture, but she felt the hammering of her heart beneath her hand.

It had felt so real.

She didn't have time to process the full extent of her dream and waking because someone pounded on her door, calling her name.

"Princess Rapunzel, are you all right? Princess?" The muffled voice demanded, but she could not find her words.

The incessant pounding ended when the door burst open and a guard wielding a sword burst in. The light from the hall behind him blacked out his face. She blinked against the brightness.

"Is everything all right, your highness?" He stepped further into the room, scouring the room for danger.

"Yes. Yes. It was just a nightmare." Her voice shook. "It was just a nightmare." She repeated for her own benefit.

Pascal nudged the hand that wasn't clutching at her chest. She absently gathered her small friend and brought him to his familiar perch on her shoulder. He cuddled close to her neck and chirped soothingly. She couldn't hear him over her pulse pounding in her ears.

"Oh." The guard sounded disappointed that he didn't have an opportunity to flaunt his bravery. "Is there anything I can get you, your highness?"

_Eugene. Get me Eugene._ She wanted to say, but that would be odd and improper. She'd tried that once and it had ended in a muddled conversation about propriety with her mother at all hours of the night. She couldn't ask for Eugene. _My mother. Get me my mother_. She wanted to say, but then she would have to talk about Gothel. Every time they happened, her mother's face grew so sad it was unbearable. She couldn't ask for her mother. _My Father. Get me my father. _She wanted to say, but her father would wake her mother and then she would have the same problem as before.

There was no one else. No one else in the whole palace, whole kingdom, whole world that could help her. The thought made her sad.

She shook her head.

"No. Thank you." She is still wearing her dress from the night before. The smell of campfire which was once pleasant now burns her nose. "I am just going back to sleep."

"Well then, good night, Princess."

With that and a bow, the guard left. The door shut and the light from the hall extinguished, but Rapunzel didn't lie back down. She remained ramrod straight in bed. Pascal made every effort to comfort her, to lull her back to a place of peace, but it was so dark. So dark, just like her dream tower, and she is afraid beyond reason that Gothel's eerie, unnatural glow would appear beside her. That thought shot her right out of her bed.

She darted to her fireplace and lit a candle from the quiet embers that hid beneath the ash. The candle in her hand lit lamp after lamp until every corner of Rapunzel's quarters was illuminated past the point of shadows. She could see everything clearly. There were no big piles of hair, no mirror shrapnel, no blood stains on the ground, and no witch of a woman waiting to suck the life and love out of her body. She was free. She was safe.

Still the weight of the dream hung around her neck like a millstone. What if it was some sort of premonition? What if it was her mind warning her of some subliminal truth that she knew but didn't remember? What if the horrible lump lodged in her throat was a sign of things to come?

The air was thick. The walls of her room sucked out all of the oxygen around her and left her spinning. She needed air. She needed to breathe.

Rapunzel stumbled to her settee window and knelt on the cushions there. Shaking fingers fumbled with heavy latches until the window lurched open with a sticky sound. The smell of the outdoors was crisp and cutting. It lingered with the smell of fires and festivities. She knelt there at her window looking out onto her kingdom, eyes scouring the darkness for signs of life. She settled back into her heels and slid to the side where her back pressed against cold stone. She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them tight.

This wasn't her tower. This wasn't her dream. This was light and air and doors and windows and _nothing_ to do with Yuletide or that other life. The funny gourd from earlier found its way to her room and rested on her hearth. It reminded her of the bright fun of the festival and games and fun and friends. She stared at that gourd for hours remembering every last detail of the past few days to push out any thought of her dream or her past life.

It was dawn before she nodded off to sleep, still curled up on the seat by the window. That was where her maid found her when she came to help her dress for the day.

Pascal shivered on her shoulder as she stumbled through the process of dressing. Her bones ached and her joints felt frozen. Every part of the routine felt difficult.

The day didn't improve from there.

She wasn't hungry at breakfast, a new experience for everyone, but no one commented. Her broody face warned them off. She could barely stay awake for her morning lessons, which was also unprecedented. Her tutor covered the royal genealogy, the rights and roles of nobility, and economic structure of the kingdom. They'd been working through different aspects of these subjects for weeks, and she loved them, but focusing today was beyond her best attempts. By the time she tracked down Eugene in their favorite library, she was so exhausted she fell asleep on the floor playing chess. She woke up the next morning in her bed with no memory of getting in it.

A solid night of dreamless sleep did wonders to even out Rapunzel's chaotic thoughts. Life was clearer with her mind refreshed and the imaginations of her mind from the night before seemed very far away. Her panic was silly. Gothel was gone. Eugene was here. Pascal was here. She lived with her parents. Life was beautiful. She was loved and safe and dreams didn't change that.

Life moved on.

She did her level best to keep moving, too.

That was until _that word_ started floating around again.

_Yuletide_.

That word hovered in the air and taunted. Always spoken around her and not to her, it felt isolating and cold. It felt bigger than other words, more important, like whatever it was held massive importance. She knew this because she paid attention when people said it. She paid attention to the way their heads tilted in knowing and their tongues grew sharp. She paid attention to the furtive dip of their eyes and the shadow of tight, inexplicable preoccupation that settled around their shoulders. She paid attention to everything. She had practice watching Gothel's every twitch of emotion, tip toeing to placate her wants, and she saw changes in people here now when they talked of Yuletide. It made her queasy.

She tried to make it better, to make it a game. She tried to make it fun, like her lessons, and tried to listen for interesting information that may shed some light on the mysterious word. Here is what Rapunzel learned from listening: Yuletide was not a thing like a book or a horse, it was an event, and it seemed to be a big one. She knew that the palace was part of it. She knew her mother was in charge.

It made sense because her mother was in charge of a lot of things, including festivals and parties. A Yuletide seemed like it would fit into those categories. Since her mother was in charge of the Yuletide, there were four wooden men that came and asked her questions and gave her reports periodically. As a rule, Rapunzel liked everyone, but she did not like these men. Anyone as stoic and somber as these men could not be planning anything fun or wonderful. They were clearly harbingers of doom.

One day Rapunzel's mother attempted to teach her daughter the finer ends of needle point. They both had large hoops mounted on stands with muslin stretched thin across it. Side by side, Rapunzel tried to emulate the stitches her mother made look effortless. Even with Pascal pushing her needle through on the other side, it was difficult. The smooth, colored floss she used kept getting knotted in the wrong places and she was frustrated. Her mother's floss never tangled.

She was working through a particularly challenging snarl when the leader of the dead eyed, wooden-expressioned, keeper-of-secrets came to talk with her mother. Grim-Face. Rapunzel named him Grim-Face and her pulse didn't race quite so quickly when he had a silly name, but he still sent her heart pattering in her throat.

Rapunzel tried not to listen and keep very busy with the mass of pink between her fingers. She'd learned from her etiquette instructor that it was rude to listen in on conversations that weren't her own, but she was bad at not being curious, even when something scared her. Her green eyes kept darting from the task at hand to the pinched expression on the tightly laced man talking to her mother in militaristic efficiency.

"We confirmed with the kitchen for the traditional Yuletide menu with the exception of the hazelnut soup." The Grim-Face's mouth scarcely moved, like if he opened his lips too wide his whole face would split open and show a wooden puppet.

"Did they have a suggestion for a suitable substitute?" The queen set aside her needle and thread to give Grim-Face her full attention.

"Mint and barley stew."

"Fine. Good. Does that sound all right, Rapunzel?"

Rapunzel didn't anticipate a consultation and was so surprised by her mother's question that she pulled her floss so hard it snapped.

"What?" she said and looked up. She was met with the mealy mouthed Grim-Face staring at her over a long list and she didn't like it.

She looked at her mother instead. Anything was better than Grim-Face's perpetual look of constipation, but her mother's face did not bring her much comfort.

Rapunzel knew her mother's face now, and she knew the look she was giving her now.

The queen's expression was restrained. A furrow creased her smooth brow. Her lips turned up in a smile that was aimed for encouragement but hit closer to imploring, and she nodded her head just a little like she was conveying her permission to express an opinion. The pinched look of expectancy spurred on because the queen knew she should know what kind of soup her daughter liked, but she didn't yet. There were eighteen years of things she had to learn and Rapunzel tried to help, but it was difficult because there were so many things she didn't know. Thing like how she didn't know if she liked mint and barley stew. She wasn't even sure what barely was.

But she nodded even though she didn't know if she liked it or not because she hated being a burden by not knowing so many things that she should. She nodded and Grim-Face made a mark on his paper and her mother's face made that funny "I'm sorry" scrunch Rapunzel didn't like because she felt like _she_ should be apologizing, not her mother.

Grim-Face and her mother went back to talking and Rapunzel _really_ didn't listen now. She didn't listen because her insides shook which made her ears hum and she could not hear what they were saying. She did not like it. She did not like the questions and the not knowing and the way Grim-Face looked at her and how every day seemed like her mother looked sad because of something she did or didn't do.

She worked on restringing new floss. It gave her something to do. She always felt better when she had something to do. The basic motion of measuring the colored floss and threading her delicate needle pulled her out of her disappointment. Plus, Pascal was nibbling on different colors of thread in the basket on her lap and turned the most enjoyable shades of oranges, blues, violets, and yellows she'd ever seen.

She tied the knot on the end of her new pink silk strand just as the bullet-pointed Grim-Face came to his last mark of agenda.

"Now about the – the final act." Grim-Face hesitated, cold eyes flickering to Rapunzel.

Rapunzel did not like him looking at her. It made her chest feel bad-tight, not good-tight, like when Eugene kissed her.

"I'm afraid you'll have to take that up with Mister Fitzherbert." The queen said and Rapunzel's ears perked up at the mention of Eugene.

Her mother didn't talk about Eugene unless Rapunzel brought him up, which she did often. What did he have to do with Yuletide? He hadn't said anything to her in their time together. Was he keeping secrets? She didn't know what she would do if he was. She had enough issues with trusting people to fill six books. She didn't like the idea of Eugene keeping secrets.

"But your Majesty, Mister Fitzherbert – "

"Is in charge of all parts of the final act." The queen cut off Grim-Face before he could protest further.

"Yes. Of course, your majesty." Grim-Face said.

"Will that be all?"

"Yes, your majesty." Grim-Face bowed in a way that made him look like he may snap in half at his waist, and then left.

Rapunzel felt like she could breathe again.

"I'm sorry about that. Where were we?" The Queen asked and Rapunzel looked at her needlepoint blankly. That was a good question.

"The pink rose?" Rapunzel still hadn't broken the habit of answering in a question when she felt unsure.

"Oh yes. Thank you." The queen smiled, warm and soft, and Rapunzel smiled back, small and pensive.

Rapunzel felt confused. Not about needle point, but about Eugene and what other secrets he might have. The questions she has sat on the back of her tongue, and made her mouth taste funny. She reminded herself that whatever secret he may have had, _if_ he ever had any, didn't change the fact that she was safe here. It felt like she had to reminder herself of that a lot over the next few hours.

After the queen and Rapunzel finished their lessons in finer things, Rapunzel darted off to find Eugene. She needed reassurance that she just misunderstood Grim-Face. She needed to make sure that there were no secrets. Not between them. Not today. Not ever. This life was too big and too complicated to have secrets in it, too.

She found Eugene in their library with the huge creaky door.

Her heart sped up at the sight of him like it always did, but this time it was not just because he was so handsome and she wanted to kiss him. This time it was because he was not sitting and pretending to read one of his many assignments like he usually did when waiting here for her to find him. This time he was deep in conversation with Grim-Face and his three counterparts. They all stopped and looked at her when she pushed open the heavy door. Four out of five pairs of eyes looked at her like she was an unwelcome nuisance. One pair of eyes lit with warmth. She focused on that pair of eyes.

"Blondie." Eugene said, and if she surprised him she could not tell by his voice.

"Hi." She warmed at his smile, stomach fluttering a bit, and she almost forgot their company. Almost. "Is this a bad time?" She learned that sometimes when people are talking they want to be left alone and did not appreciate stories about how many grapes Pascal could fit in his mouth. This looked like one of those times.

"No. We are done here. Right, gents?" Eugene stood and sauntered to where Rapunzel waited in the doorway.

"I feel you have given us plenty to consider, Mister Fitzherbert." Grim-Face said and Rapunzel felt a chill run down her back.

"Not to consider – to do." Eugene pulled Rapunzel away from the door and deeper into the room. The closer he brought her to the wooden group, the closer she pushed into his side.

"Yes. Of course." Grim-Face sniffed. "If you will excuse us, Princess." He bowed and Rapunzel swore she heard him creak just like the great door to this room.

She tried to bow in dismissal, but was far too close to Eugene and all she could manage was a nod. She noticed they didn't bother bidding Eugene adieu. That hurt her feelings.

The unanimated quartet made their exit and Rapunzel released a breath. Two visits in one day from Grim-Face and his Death Squad was more than she ever wanted.

"Good timing." Eugene gathered her into his arms. "I was about to find out if someone can actually die of boredom."

His arms were strong and warm and she felt the tension melt out of her body. She buried her face in his chest and breathed in the smell of him. He smelled like soap and air and _him_. The rich musky scent of man filled her senses and it was still so new that it made her a little dizzy trying to sort out all his different notes. It was so distracting that she almost forgot the main reason she sought him out, the main reason the Grim-squad held conference with him. Almost.

She pulled back and faced him, still circled in the hold of his arms. He looked at her openly, too openly. He looked at her not as much as Eugene, but with the confident appreciation of his alter-ego, Flynn Rider. Now Rapunzel liked the Flynn part of him just like she liked the Eugene part of him, but she knew he only pulled out this persona as a defense. He only used it for things he did not think Eugene could do alone. Things like steal a tiara. Things like face a crowd of under-impressed, over-important, self-absorbed nobles. Things like a keep a secret.

Her stomach clenched. She knew subtle strategy was the best mode in these situations. Mother had told her so, but she was so bad at subtle. It made her voice all pinched and whiny. Or she mumbled in a way that made her unintelligible. Subtle anything was not her strong suit and it was something that had never mattered where Eugene was concerned. When Eugene came into the picture, she never needed subtle. That was until now. She didn't like it.

"Why were you talking to those people?" She watches his face for any flicker of emotion, any glimmer of surprise or hiding. She saw none.

"Your mother had the brilliant idea that if I am going to live in the palace, I should help out with some things here or there. My first project is helping her coordinate things for Yuletide." Eugene spoke so easily, without blinking, that she almost didn't feel queasy with nervous anticipation at the mention of Yuletide.

"And is one of the things you are responsible for coordinating – uh – 'the final act'?" She was not satisfied with his vague answer.

"I guess you could say that." He squinted at her, his brow furrowing. "Who called it that?"

"Them." Rapunzel gestured with her head to the door with Grim-Face and entourage exited. Eugene chuckled.

"They would." He said, but she didn't understand. They would… what?

In fact, she didn't understand any of this. She didn't understand why everything felt like shadows and spider webs under her skin. She didn't understand why mother picked now to trust Eugene with anything. She didn't understand why Eugene was wearing his Flynn Rider face when she really needed him to be Eugene. She didn't understand why those four wooden people kept looking at her like 'if she only knew what was coming'. She felt small. She felt scared. She felt sad.

Her head hurt.

Her worry must have shown on her face because Eugene caught her chin with his finger and raised her gaze to his. It wasn't till she realized how fuzzy all of his features were that she discovered her eyes were full of tears. She blinked and hot rivers scaled a trail down her cheeks. Eugene's face was all confusion and concern now, but it was all Eugene. Flynn Rider was gone in the face of genuine emotion and the sight of her best friend gave her such relief she cried harder. She threw her arms around his waist and sobbed into his doublet because nothing made sense in this big world and she needed him to make everything seem less strange. To make _her_ seem less strange.

"Who, Sunshine, what's with the waterworks?" His big hands pressed on her shoulders, carefully distancing her enough to see her face but keep her close.

Rapunzel had no idea what to say.

She didn't know how to explain the months of questions she had not asked. She did not know how to explain the tight feeling in her chest every time someone said the word _Yuletide_. She did not know how to explain the rocks in her stomach every time she saw Grim-Face or his counterparts. She didn't know how to explain how, yet again, she had no idea how anything worked or what anything meant. Especially when it seemed that everyone assumed she knew exactly what _Yuletide_ was and what it entailed. She didn't know how to explain the crushing pressure she felt trying to deduce what she _should _feel about this mystery time of year. She felt that people were expecting one very specific feeling, but she didn't know what that was.

She didn't know how to tell him that it felt like he was the only person in this crazy place that was as out of place as she was. She didn't know how to tell him that it was a huge comfort to her, but it was times like this where she was reminded just how different she really was. She was different because it was clear that Eugene knew what Yuletide meant. She didn't. She could not bring herself to tell him just how clueless she really was.

So instead she just sniffed and said: "I've had a very long day."

She was relieved when he gave her his silly half-grin. The one he gave her when he thought he understood just what she meant even without details. She didn't want to give details.

"Yeah?" He gathered her back into his arms and stroked her perpetually short hair. "Did Pascal swallow something he shouldn't?" His voice rumbles deep in his chest against her ear.

"No." Her tears slowed. "But he went down to the kitchen – so who knows what color he will be when he comes back." She smiles at the thought.

"Well, why don't we do something to pass the time while we wait and see?" He said and before she knew what was happening – he kissed her.

The world was dizzy and spinning again, but for all the best reasons. Reasons like Eugene's tongue against hers and his hands pressing against her body like he wanted to leave marks. Her chest was tight again, but in that good way. In that good way that came because she had so many feelings inside she felt too big for her skin, and not because she was anxious.

He knew her. He loved her. He wouldn't do anything to hurt her. He wouldn't kiss her like this, hold her like this, if he didn't want to keep her safe. Her wild worry faded. Eugene was here, and as long as she was with him, she would be fine. She. Would. Be. Fine.

That was the thought she held onto in the next few weeks. Weeks filled with whispers and meetings she wasn't allowed to be in the room for. Weeks where she caught people looking at her with a strange twinkle in their eyes, only to look away when they noticed that she had noticed them. Weeks all she wanted to do was run down the halls screaming every time she saw Grim-Face or one of his minions approaching. It was difficult to remember perspective, but she tried.

She spent unprecedented amounts of time in her room in attempts to avoid any unexpected run-ins with anything Yuletide. The newness of it all coupled with everyone's watchful expectations overwhelmed her. She just wished it would come and be over with so everyone would go back to normal and she would have a clue as to what everyone was so atwitter about. She just wished that things would just stop, but they didn't.

The changes around the palace were subtle at first, but picked up momentum. Grand furniture pieces moved to create space for men hauling whole tree trunks into the throne room. They stacked logs and built a stone trench around the wood so it stretched the entire length of the great hall right down the middle of it and left them there. Guest rooms were prepared, but Rapunzel hadn't heard of anything anticipated arrivals. Mistletoe berries found their way into arrangements of dry sticks and evergreen branches that hung over doorways. They were not as beautiful as the decorations of previous seasons to Rapunzel. They seemed like spindly fingers reaching for the evil berries, pointing at her in accusation, saying that they knew all she didn't know.

Rapunzel resented every change.

Staying in her room helped in all way but one: she was lonely.

Eugene came to visit now and then, but he was so fidgety. His smiles were too big and his reasons to leave too flimsy. It made her uneasy. Rapunzel knew his schedule. She knew he never woke more than ten minutes before breakfast (much to the chagrin of his valet), and she knew that after breakfast he had lessons the same as she, then lunch, then while she continued her studies he was given responsibilities like participating in meetings with her father and his advisors. He was normally so good at getting out of those meetings early to come meet with her before dinner, but lately the only time she saw him alone was when _she_ snuck into _his_ room at night. Because he stopped coming to her room. She even waited three nights once to see if he would come to find her, but he didn't.

That made the rumbly feeling in her stomach intensify and her world felt unsteady. Had Eugene found out she didn't know what Yuletide was? Was he mad at her? Was it too much for him to accept that she had so many gaps where there should be memories that everyone else had? Was he sad? Did she make him sad? He didn't kiss her like he was sad, but he kissed her like he didn't want to hurt her and he hadn't kissed her like that for several months. She felt the distance and she didn't like it. She didn't like it one bit.

Then the morning finally came.

Rapunzel woke up in her bed with her maid gently rubbing her shoulder.

"It's time to get dressed, princess." The young woman said. "It's the Yuletide!" The words sent shock waves through Rapunzel's body and her first instinct was to run, or hide, or fake sick, but she that wouldn't get her out of anything. She'd seen her mother wrought with fever but still preform royal duties. Illness was no free pass, even though with every part of her dressing she felt more and more nauseous.

When she emerged into the hall it was bustling with activities. Faces she'd never seen before scurried up and down the corridor as she tried to melt into the wall the way Pascal did on her shoulder. People carried parcels and packages wrapped in innocuous brown paper and twine of various shapes of sizes. Each bundle bore its own potential horror and she imagined all kinds of nightmares in the wrappings. By the time she made it to the dining hall, she was far from hungry.

One of the main reasons for the loss of her appetite was the Eugene was nowhere to be seen. On this day of days, the pinnacle of her fears realized, he was not there. This was not ideal. No. This was not the day for him to be absent, not now while she needed to draw strength from him.

"Where's Eugene?" She asked her parents.

Her father shrugged and looked at her mother. Her mother gave a small smile.

"I suppose he won't be joining us this morning." The queen said and Rapunzel's heart sank.

"Where is he?"

"Oh. It is very difficult to say at present." Her mother said and it felt to Rapunzel like all of the hope drained out of her bones.

"Oh." That kind of answer was never good.

The vaguer her parents were the more tragic the news usually was. Like the time she found the litter of kittens in the bag on the shore and only one of them was breathing. The bag was whisked out of her hands. It was only after a week of prodding the right people for information that she found out they were all dead and buried somewhere no one would specify.

Now as she sat at the table, on this of all days, she felt lost. She didn't feel joy or excitement like she saw in her parent's faces. She felt cold and hard and empty. She felt like she was a vessel that poured and poured itself until there was nothing left to give. She felt scared. She felt alone.

She couldn't think. She couldn't eat. Pascal cooed in her ear.

"May I be excused? I'm not feeling well." Rapunzel hadn't eaten a scrap of breakfast.

"Not well? Do you need to see a healer?" Her mother's maternal instinct kicked in.

"No. No. I just need to rest for a bit. May I – may I be excused?" Rapunzel asked and her mother exchanged glances with her father.

After a silent moment, the queen nodded. "Yes. Of course you may."

Rapunzel was off like a shot. She tripped on her skirts as she powered down the hallway towards Eugene's room. There were no events today, which meant there were lessons today like normal. Rapunzel knew that because her maid had told her to return to her chambers in the afternoon to dress for the celebration commencement ceremony. That meant that there were _hours_ for her to try to not think about the impending start of Yuletide. That meant that she had an unimaginable amount of people to see, speak to, and try to guess what expression she should wear because she was still not sure what it meant to celebrate Yuletide. She couldn't do it without Eugene.

She knocked, but there was no answer.

She knocked again, harder, but the door stayed shut.

She reached for the handle and turned. It was unlocked. She pushed it open, stepping into Eugene's room with eyes open wide, but there was no one inside. His room was empty. The satchel that usually hung over the corner of his favorite chair was missing and her heart dropped to her feet. He never took his satchel anywhere unless he was leaving. But if he had left, where had he gone and why hadn't he told her about it?

She made a sweep of his room, opening doors, looking under his bed, but he was nowhere to be found. After she had searched every last corner to no avail, she felt her heart sink. He couldn't be gone. He just couldn't. Could he?

Morning lessons went on forever and she didn't hear a word of them. Her mind was too busy sorting through every moment, every exchange, she had had with Eugene in the last month. Over and over she replayed kisses and conversations, trying to turn up a clue that would point to why he was missing, but she found nothing. By the time lunch rolled around, she was miserable. Her head throbbed, her stomach ached, and her heart broke when the lunch table presented, yet again, an empty chair where Eugene normally sat.

She picked at her food, trying to make an effort to keep her parents from worrying, but she saw the concerned glances exchanged between the king and queen. Conversation ran dry besides basic courtesy.

_How were morning lessons? What are you learning? Are you ready for Yuletide to start tonight?_

_They are fine. We are discussing the third passage of _The Harold _by Christophe Brenner and I'm making good progress with my math. Yes. _Her answers were all short, bullet points for her, especially the last one. She wasn't good at elaborate lies.

"Are you ill, Rapunzel?" Her mother asked towards the end of the meal.

"No, mother." She tried to smile. "I just have a headache. I didn't sleep well last night."

And that was true. She hadn't slept well in weeks.

"Perhaps you should rest this afternoon instead of continuing your studies. I'll have your tutor contacted and tell him that you need rest. Tonight is a big night and we don't need you too worn."

Rapunzel didn't like the sound of that at all. A whole afternoon stuck in her room with no distraction but her own mind? It would be torturous, but then again sitting through the drone of her tutor and trying to get her brain to focus on subjects that were not Eugene didn't sound too great either.

So she didn't object. After lunch she found her way back through the winding halls to her room and went in. It wasn't long after she flopped onto her back on her bed that she heard a knock at her door. Her heart leapt. Was it Eugene? Had he come to explain his absence? Had he come to help her take away all of the fear that boiled in her stomach?

She ran to the door and threw it open, but instead of Eugene, she saw the royal healer. His old face was gentle and kind, but Rapunzel thought it was the most hateful face she'd ever seen. Any face other than Eugene's would have received the same appraisal at this point.

"Excuse me, princess, but the queen had me prepare you a sleeping draught." He extended a goblet filled with a strange smelling drink.

Rapunzel took it. She didn't want to drink it. She didn't want to sleep. She wanted to find Eugene. She wanted this horrible day to be over. But she drank it. It tasted bitter, like all of the healer's drinks, but she managed to give a gracious smile to the old man as she gave him back the cup.

"Thank you." She said.

"May I get anything else for you, your highness?" The man pushed round spectacles up his bulbous nose.

"No. Thank you. That will be all." She started to close the door and the healer went to leave, when she stopped herself. "Wait." She said and the man stopped and looked at her.

"Yes, your majesty?" he replied.

"You haven't seen Mister Fitzherbert today, have you?" She tried to sound formal, but it felt funny.

"No, your majesty. I am sorry. Would you like me to have someone find him for you?" He asked and her heart screamed _YES!_, but she didn't feel like that would be very proper, so she declined.

Besides, she was supposed to rest this afternoon and she was sure that this was all just part of her over active imagination. Eugene wasn't gone. He was just busy. He'd be back by the time she woke up and everything would go back to normal. If she had someone go look for Eugene, and they didn't find him, well that would mean he was really gone and that was not something she could deal with.

The sleeping draught kicked in faster than she expected. She tried to keep her eyes open, but it didn't work. She fell asleep before she even got under her covers and didn't wake up until her maid came to help her get ready for the celebration. It felt like her head had been hit by a hammer. Whether it was from the draught or from the stress pounding through her system, she couldn't tell.

Her maid was chattering away about how exciting all of this was and how she loved this time of year and how the whole castle was waiting to see what the princess thought of the mumming tonight. Rapunzel nodded and smiled appropriately, but was lost in her mind. She didn't want this. She didn't want to be a part of this Yuletide or whatever this mumming thing was. She just wanted to find Eugene and run away until everything stopped being strange and scary.

But that wasn't going to happen.

She was met at her door by a formal escort of guards. She was used to this, but normally Eugene was part of the ensemble. This time he was nowhere to be seen and a chill ran through her whole body. She didn't pay attention to where they lead her. She didn't want to know. Whatever it was, wherever it was, it was nowhere that she wanted to be.

Rapunzel hated Yuletide.

It made people act crazy and it made Eugene disappear. Or maybe it was just her. Maybe _she_ was crazy and maybe _she_ was the reason Eugene was nowhere to be found. Regardless, it was still Yuletide and Eugene was still gone, and she felt miserable.

The entered the courtyard and she was draped with a heavy coat made of furs. Pascal scurried from her hands to snuggle up in the warmth of the wrap on against her neck. At least she still had that little guy.

The escort brought her to a grand chair set beside her mother and her father. The crowd in the courtyard below was hushed out of respect, which always made her feel odd. That added on top of her already altered state, and she couldn't stop shaking. Luckily she sat before her legs gave out. She noticed there was no additional chair beside her for Eugene and any shred of hope that she had that he would magically appear vanished.

She tried not to cry, pulling in deep breath after deep breath of the chilled air, and turned her gaze out to her subjects. That was when she took in the courtyard for the first time.

There, at the back of the yard, a strange semicircle of wood jutted up from the cobbles. It looked like a stage, but Rapunzel had never seen a stage in the courtyard before like this and she didn't like that it was there now. Anything out of the ordinary at this point was not in her best interest as far as she was concerned.

Upon the stage there was sparse scenery. Stage right was what Rapunzel assumed was a forest filled with two dimensional trees. Stage left there was a rowboat surrounded by fabricated water. The set in the center made her heart stop. It was a tower made of stone, tall, narrow, and at the very top there was a single window with wooden shutters. Rapunzel recognized it immediately.

It was her tower. What was happening here? What was going on?

Her stomach clenched. She felt like she would be ill. Her hands gripped the arms of her chair until her finger nails chipped and her breathing accelerated. Her heart felt like it was trying to escape from her chest and she was about to scream or run or puke or cry or do all of those things at the same time when her father stood from his place at her side and addressed the crowd.

"Coronians! Welcome to the Festival of Yule!" The crowd erupted into thunderous applause and the king waited until the noise had died down before he spoke again. "In lieu of our traditional mumming story, we have a new tale to share. It is one that will be told and remembered here for generations so that none will forget just how your princess, my beloved daughter, was returned to us after all those years. So without further delay, let the Yuletide begin!"

At the king's proclamation a band started playing, the crowd roared, and players began to move out onto the stage. All of this was lost on Rapunzel. She was still trying to understand what her father said. This play – this _mumming_ – was her story? Why had she not heard about this? Why had no one asked her anything or told her anything?

And where was Eugene?

No one else understood the harrowing ups and downs of their journey the way he did. Without him, she never would have ended up here. She would have stayed in her tower and wished and wondered, but that wasn't her story. Her story was with him, and now without him here beside her, with this strange tradition unfolding in front of her, she felt more alone than she ever had in her tower.

She hated Yuletide.

The players all wore strange masks, odd and oversized, and they made their appearance nightmarish to Rapunzel. The exaggerated features, the strange and unmoving, were disorienting. They looked like monsters.

Even so, Rapunzel recognized Flynn's mask immediately. The way his face was carved into a smirk was a dead giveaway, but also the man portraying him moved like Eugene. He stood like Eugene and walked like Eugene but it wasn't him. It was just her mind wanting it to be him, but it wasn't. It couldn't be. Eugene was gone.

The mumming unfolded much in the way that she and Eugene had pieced together when they recalled those few days. The meeting, the Snuggly Duckling, finally making it to see the lights, how Eugene had saved her... it was all uncomfortably familiar, like deja vu, like the pages of her journal were being aired out in public for all to see.

She cried. She didn't mean to, it just happened. Tears blurred her vision as memories of Eugene rushed in. He knew her. He understood her. He cared for her better than anyone ever had or every would, but he was gone. She didn't know why, or where, she just knew he was gone. She hadn't been enough to keep him.

She couldn't watch anymore. She couldn't stand to see this happy ending when her own life felt so confused. So she squeezed her eyes tight, blocking back the tears and the end of this awful display. It wasn't until she heard the thunderous roar from the crowd that she trusted herself to open her eyes again. It was over. The horrible thing was over. The players all lined up across the stage and bowed.

Then, the man in the Flynn mask stepped to the front and motioned for silence.

"Thank you all. It was a pleasure to perform for you." He even sounded like Eugene. Or she just missed Eugene so badly that she was imagining things. "Now will you welcome to the stage, crown princess of Corona, Rapunzel!"

The words surged liked ice through her body. Her head whipped towards her parents, wild eyes searching for understanding, but she found none. Instead they were smiling that knowing smile that made her entire body seize up with fear. Maybe this was something she was told would happen, but she had been so busy trying to not be afraid of the secrets of Yuletide that she just forgot. Maybe it was the sacred duty of the princess to say something after the mumming. Maybe this was where the king and queen publicly announced that their daughter had no knowledge of what Yuletide meant and thus was expelled from the kingdom forever.

She struggled to breathe.

A man cleared his throat on her other side and it startled her so badly that she jumped in her seat. When she looked she saw her official escort standing with his arm offered to her, watching her, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, and Rapunzel felt her stomach drop to her feet.

There was no getting out of this.

Robotically, she took her escort's arm and he helped her to her feet. The joints of her body jerked as she stood, trying to support her trembling limbs, and it was only through muscle memory that she was able to walk. One step, then another, down the aisle the guardsmen created for her to process. The crowd clapped in rhythmic unison, forcing a tempo to her steps, a beat to aid her path to destruction.

They made it to the stairs leading up to the stage and her escort was met at the stairs by the actor wearing the Maximus mask. Up close, the mask was more nightmare-ish than it had been at a distance. The unblinking eyes, the oversized mouth frozen open - her escort almost had to pull her off of his arm to pass her off to the Maximus.

By the time her lead feet made it to the top of the stairs on the arm of her equine escort, the cast had created a semicircle across the back of the stage. In their hands, each held a single unlit paper lantern. All of them except for the Flynn character. He stood center stage, facing her, his hands held a small brown package, and he waited - for her. Why was _he_ waiting for her? Why did it have to be the one actor that reminded her of everything she had lost?

When Maximus finally led her close enough to center stage that she could reach out and touch the mask of the Flynn character, she was shaking so badly that she wasn't sure she could stand on her own. The crowd fell to a hush, watching, waiting, and everyone seemed to know something she didn't. Everyone seemed to know what was coming next. Everyone except her. In the back of her mind we heard Gothel's sing-song voice. _Mother knows best!__  
_

The Maximus left her to take his place in the semi-circle, and Rapunzel was left to stand on her own. Pascal cooed in her ear, but it didn't soothe her. Between the nerves, the anticipation, the exhaustion, and the uncertainty - she just knew she might faint. that, however, would not be very princess like at all, so instead she just wrapped her arms around her waist as tight as she could to keep herself from flying to pieces. She tried to keep out the Yuletide.

The Flynn held out the package to her, and she stared at it dumbly.

"I don't know what I am supposed to do now." She whispered to the Flynn in front of her, an admission to defeat, begging for help.

"You open it, Sunshine."

The way he said that name sent a pang through her heart. The real Flynn (now Eugene) called her that, well, he had before he just left when she needed him most. This was the worst day in the history of ever.

She took the package in numb, trembling fingers and tried to unwrap it. She just needed this to all be over, whatever all of this was, so she could go to bed and cry herself to sleep. Maybe if she played along well enough, she would be able to leave soon and then this would all be over for a little bit, but her hands were clumsy from the pressure and the cold and she could not get it open fast enough.

The world was eerily silent as she opened her package. Every crinkle and rip of the paper reverberated through the courtyard. It was like the whole of Corona held its breath, herself included.

The paper and string finally fell away and she was left holding a small, ornately carved, wooden box. It was heavy, the weight greater than she expected for a box of this size, but it was beautiful. On the front there was a tiny latch. She fumbled with it until it sprung open.

At first it sounded like the tinkling of distant bells. The tune strange and familiar all at once, and the more she opened the box, the louder the sound grew. It was a music box! She had always wanted one of those. She would have been completely ecstatic under almost any other circumstances, but the stress of the day made that difficult. That and the fact that something under the lid glinted from the darkness and attracted her attention.

She opened the lid fully, and there, up through an intricate working of moving pieces, rose a thin metal band. The golden ring looked like a dozen impossibly small vines woven together to hold the two dozen tiny colorful gemstone in place. It was delicate and beautiful and she barely had a chance to process what she was seeing before two familiar hands came and covered hers where they held the box.

She looked up, and there in front of her stood Eugene. His face had red marks on it the way her face did in the morning from the creases on her pillow. His hair was tousled and out of place. His clothes were the same as the man who played Flynn in the mumming and - oh! It all came to her in a flash - the meetings, the secrecy, the disappearing, the conversations with Grimface and mother - it all came down to this.

Eugene planned the mumming! He planned to tell the world their story. He hadn't left her! He had wanted to surprise her!

"Eugene!" She threw her arms around his neck, music box and all, and he stumbled back a step in surprise. "I thought you were gone!" She buried her face into his chest, breathed him in, and like that - two months of gut rotting worry melted into nothing.

"What? No. I'm not gone. I'm not going anywhere." He gently disentangled himself from her embrace so he could look into her eyes. "In fact, that is kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

He took her hands again, closing around the music box, and he seemed - well - nervous. Which was weird because, for the first time in weeks, Rapunzel didn't feel nervous. Even in the face of Yuletide, she could do anything with Eugene by her side. Unless the fact that he was nervous meant that she should be nervous, too. In that case, she would be very nervous. She had a lot of practice lately.

He cleared his throat, twice, a third time, and muttered something about the cold air and a frog in his throat, but Rapunzel was just so glad to see him that she forgot to be impatient. Then, after a few moments, Eugene looked at her again and the expression on his face sent a shock wave through her whole system. Smolder be damned, this look was the one that had her heart pounding.

"Rapunzel," he said, and she could not help but think how strange her name sounded when he said it. "I have been alone for most of my life, never knowing where I belonged or what it meant to have a family, until I met you. You are the only place that has ever felt like home - and I never want to lose that."

The way he said it, the way he looked at her, everything about that made her feel warm from her head down to her toes. She wanted to kiss him, hard, immediately, and make him feel warm, too. But he wasn't done.

Eugene took the box from her hands and pulled out the ring. Then he dropped to one knee in front of her and her breath stopped. Her etiquette teacher had told her about this. She knew what was coming next.

"Will you ma -"

"Yes!" She tackled him, rolling him from his knees to his seat and onto his back with her a top of him.

"Ooof!" The wind knock out of Eugene's lungs.

She bolted up.

"Oh no! Are you hurt?"

"You didn't even let me finish my question." Eugene pushed himself up and rubbed the spot where his head had smacked the stage.

"Oh. Sorry." She scurried back, off of his lap, and stood. "I am so sorry." Pascal gave a rude squeak when she fixed the wrap around her shoulders. "Can we try again?"

Eugene gave her one of his looks, a perfect blend of frustration and adoration, and pushed himself up to one knee again. He held up the band in his hands, the ring glistening in the light of the courtyard lamps, and took a deep breath.

Rapunzel was still shaking, but now for an entirely different reason.

"Rapunzel, would you do me the honor of marrying me?"

This time she restrained herself, reigning in the excitement that told her to plow him down again, and nodding her head furiously.

"Yes!" She couldn't say it loudly enough. "Of course! Yes!"

Then Eugene was standing, and the ring was on her finger. Her arms were around his shoulders and his mouth was pressed to hers. The courtyard exploded into thunderous applause but they did not hear it. The world faded away until Eugene pulled back for air and Rapunzel saw a multitude of paper lanterns dance around them into the dark night sky. The same lights that brought her home, the same lights that brought them together.

"Happy Yuletide, Blondie." Eugene whispered into her ear as he held her.

"Happy Yuletude, Eugene." She whispered back, and while she was far from an expert on the season, she never meant anything more.

Maybe Yuletide wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

**A/N**: This may be the most unapologetically fluffy piece I have ever written. Happy 2014 world! I hope this fiction finds you well.

Sometimes I update my fanfiction twitter about my life and my writing. Check it out if you want: **r****avenswrite**


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